


You get what you wish for

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [96]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, HYDRA Husbands, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Loneliness, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining, mcuchristmasexchange2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21982099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Brock's left alone for the first time after a shitty break up just so Jack can go see his family for Christmas.  He regrets not asking him to stay.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [96]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28
Collections: MCU Christmas Exchange





	You get what you wish for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> For the [MCU Christmas Exchange](https://mcu-christmas-exchange.tumblr.com/)! My match was the lovely [Hydra_Trash_Gal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal) so of course I gotta hit you up with some Hydra Husbands. ;) 💙 Hope you like!

He wished he had admitted to Jack that he wanted him to stay despite knowing it was selfish.

The problem with it was that if he had, a part of him knows Jack would have said yes because it was Jack, and shit was like that between them. He wouldn’t have even held it against him either, but Brock knew he couldn’t have done that to him. 

Besides which, Jack’s been camping at his place for almost half a year, ever since he returned from his pastry apprenticeship program out in Europe and had nowhere else to go. While Brock figured yes was the only answer to the question, his boyfriend at the time didn’t agree and after a blow up, a fight Jack bears witness to  _ and  _ gets involved in, he now has a restraining order and Brock is happily asshole free. Jack deserves to travel again, he hadn’t even gone back to Poland for his father’s birthday (even if they had a strained relationship in the first place) or faltered when his mother called to tell him how much she missed him. Jack was a mama's boy, he never hides it but Brock was taken aback when he declined an offer for a plane ticket just to come back home for a visit. It was early into Brock’s recovery of not being in a shitty relationship anymore and he knew it was why he passed on them.

He never showed signs of resenting Brock for missing those moments which at least was reassuring, so when Jack asked him if he was fine spending the holidays without him around, he just couldn’t say no. It wasn’t very long either, just barely a week and a half, and it wasn’t like his asshole ex was going to figure it out and try to pay a visit. Their break up was pretty clear and Jack’s reaction to it all was the push he needed to end it. It was already bad enough that Jack had been treating him like a fragile object the first couple of months, giving him looks like he felt so guilty for putting him in the situation he had no idea was happening when it was the dumbest kind of guilt to have. There was no way Jack would have figured it out, Brock kept it from his other friends enough anyway and well, he was just full of bad decisions. It wasn’t normal that Jack was there constantly, like a crutch making sure he didn’t fall apart, he could handle him being gone, they both needed space from each other like normal, healthy adults..right?

They’re at a point of the break up recovery where Jack doesn’t stare at him to make sure he’s really okay with it. He just nodded his head, flashed him a smile and folded up the flight itinerary he’d printed out to keep on the fridge. It was nice to be treated like his word wasn’t to be questioned, nice to see his friends finally loosening up after they had good reason to needle him and figure out if he was lying and being self destructive, harboring a horrible asshole boyfriend somewhere again. Besides Jack, Natasha was the worst about it, like having her own life wasn’t the right call. With Jack around, it wasn’t like he could anyway, not like he wanted to as of late.

So Jack came home after his last scheduled shift, packed his bags, took way too long to say goodbye and promised that even though he hadn’t been able to buy the gang (including him) presents he promised to bring some things back from Poland or it wouldn’t be  _ Christmas _ and then his taxi arrived and like that, he was gone for the airport. 

Six hours have passed and with every sinking hour that goes by, Brock feels more and more like shit. 

He doesn’t have options when it comes to calling someone that isn’t Jack or Natasha, everyone else left New York, and well..Clint’s around but his remedies to boredom always led to things Brock really preferred to avoid for now. He’d lost a lot of other friends before Jack came back, but then again eleven months with that boyfriend had slowly closed off contact with many people as well as killed a good chunk of his social life. Besides which, he’s not too eager to try reconnecting with anyone during the holidays that he was somewhat friends with before Mike appeared in his life. It would have only been a pathetic and obvious cry for help and no matter how lonely he felt he was much too above all that..if they’d even answer. He was stuck. Jack went back to see family and Natasha was creating her own. She’d just moved in with Clint out in Bed-Stuy, adopted a cat she insists was Clint’s idea and that he did it without her knowledge, and was handling a second Barton in the mix since Barney suddenly showed up from _God knows where_. There’s no way he’s bothering her with anything right now.

That only meant he was stuck dealing with this on his own, inside an apartment that suddenly seemed so bare now that the one person he saw every day for almost six months was gone. Well, at least he’s had worse holidays than this.

The only great thing about it was that he’s never been a big fan of Christmas in the first place, and at least this time around Jack could unleash his Santa loving hell all over his family instead of on him. Aside from a tree Jack insisted on bringing in despite Brock’s live commentary of how stupid the holiday was, and a stocking with his name on it beside one with Jack’s held under the feet of the TV legs, you couldn’t really tell it was any different. He supposed just the tree being up paid dues but trust him, if Jack was in charge, it would have looked like a department store threw up in there.

He stared at the plates of colorful snacks from well wishing neighbors, all covered in saran wrap except for side corners where it was Brock’s job to test every cookie and cake just because it was a law or something. At least he’s not bombarded by drunk friends reminding him that it’s supposed to be a fucking joyful and merry time for everyone to be had because he’d most likely punch someone in the face by now.

Of course that’s when he got the bright idea to go to the drugstore, make a quick run for some things he’d need to hole up for the week on.

There’s decorations all throughout the corridor towards the elevators and someone’s apartment door is open to Christmas music streaming out. The lobby has a tall tree beautifully decorated and there’s so many strung up lights, Brock’s not too excited to see the electric bill next month. There’s Santas and gifts painted across the front glass of the door and every shop he walks past has their own mini Christmas themes going at full tilt. All of them. It would have been stupid to drive just to go over one block but right then, he regrets it fully. On top of it, he has to bodily go around bell ringers collecting for charity and happy people feeling festive and in season. He loathes all this so much, being reminded that all these families were wholesome and perfect while his only family is Nonna, who’s overseas and his dad is a deadbeat he has no plans to ever see again.

Anyway, he tried going into his favorite little coffee shop to get away from the crowds but there was still too many people around and if there wasn’t, the speakers were blaring more festive Christmas music. He supposed at least back home, Jack wasn’t there to blast his own collection on Vinyl. Somehow he decided  _ that  _ was a good thing to bring out of storage. His sanity was at its wits end by the time he made it to the store and mentally weighed the pros and cons of eating vs. speed walking back home and settling for a bottle of mustard as his meal for the night.

A quick look inside the store he was originally coming out for showed employees and cashiers dressed in festive ugly sweaters and santa hats pulled over their heads. Some even had reindeer antlers on and he really wasn’t in the mood for all this crap. 

He quickly grabbed what he needed and hurried out of there, vowing never to return again until the Christmas season was over. Back inside his place it was wonderfully quiet and everything was still.

And it felt like he was being punished.

He hadn’t known just how much Jack being always around had made a difference. As it was now, everything looked duller and sadder somehow. He thought about all his neighbors, especially the newly married couple two doors down with their new baby, on top of a curious one year old and perfectly paired kitten and puppy combo that weren’t raising hell for any of them. He felt a little jealous of their apparently wonderful life. They were going to do all the cliched family things you saw in the movies and everything was going to be picture perfect for their collection of family photos. There’d be cookies baked for Santa and the kids would stay up for as long as they could before passing out beside the tree and dad would eat the cookies and place out all the wonderful gifts they’d have in store. Brock on the other hand was going to put on a bathrobe and at least some boxers after a nice hot shower, then make something quick to eat before parking his ass in front of the TV to enjoy it. Maybe it was pathetic, but it wasn’t like anyone was around to judge him. 

It’s in his bedroom that he pauses to stare at a pile of clothes sitting on top of his dresser. It’s what’s below them that’s important, a first edition copy of The Living Shadow hidden away that Jack’s lost track of. It’s actually Brock’s, and so it wasn’t like Jack was looking for it. It was probably one of the rarest books he’d ever owned, not that he or Jack saw it as one. Brock liked to look at it once in a while, flip through a few pages; it was Jack that dug it up from a pile and went on reading it over and over again like when they were kids and he was into The Shadow and all those radio dramas that played late at night. Now those dramas were on cd sets Jack had, but he liked reading them too and he especially liked The Living Shadow. 

With his work and his adjustment to life without Mike being around breathing down his neck, plus trying to sleep through the whole night properly without having any nightmares about not being safe or whatever. (And hoping he didn’t wake Jack up because of them, even if he said that was the point of him staying longer than planned.) He just never had time to get anything and he knew Jack enough to know this would be something he’d like. Pushing aside the stack of folded clothes, the book was wrapped in nice glittery metallic paper with a dark blue bow around it that he had some girl do at a stall offering to do the job for a donation. If Brock ever wanted to read a book he barely touched, he could always buy a cheap mass produced copy while Jack appreciated a rarer edition that he knew how to take care of. Brock knows if it’s left with him and not stuffed in some box, it’d probably end up donated and some other asshole would find it and sell it for more than five bucks.

Still, he feels like a shitty friend for only giving him a book. Jack deserved a lot more than that, especially with him coming back after such a long time away. He stuck by his side through all the bullshit of getting away from some real bad news and all Brock could do was hope New York would cancel all their flights because of the weather so he’d soon return to be stuck with him.

Maybe he should have admitted the truth to Jack and said that he’d have preferred it if he stayed.

But it really was something Jack needed to do. He always went back for the holidays, this year was no different. Family was family, it was why Brock didn’t accept the invitation to tag along with him, he knew he’d feel even worse than better about everything. It was one thing to see strangers out in the street acting all holly jolly, it was another being stuck in the middle of it with Jack’s closest family members and trying to fake everything. He didn’t want to cause any issues. 

He exhales heavily and takes his bags into the kitchen, unloading things into the fridge and across the counter. There wasn’t much in terms of fresh food in the drugstore but if he was going to spend Christmas Eve alone, at least he was going to try to do something he’d enjoy and right now he wanted to pretend there was some kind of party going on. There were already cookies and cakes on disposable plates so all he had to do was to heat up the oven, check out cooking times and soon he’d have a charcuterie board all to himself, cocktail sausage rolls and a plate of mushroom arancini to stuff himself full of. That and two bottles of his favorite wine tucked away for just this occasion since he planned ahead plus all the back up booze they hadn’t finished off before Jack left. He was going to make sure he forgot about tonight or at least managed to pass out and sleep through it without waking up and realizing he was alone and going through some sort of crisis because of it. 

There wasn’t much point to delay it any further and the only person that may call would probably be Jack to tell him he’d arrived, but that wasn’t going to be for a few more hours yet. And he probably wouldn’t be in the mood to hear cheerful music and happy people in the background. Jack would know enough to leave him a message and Brock would call him later to say Merry Christmas.

He contemplates setting the small round table they usually eat at together at, but he can’t be bothered, dragging over one of the small TV tray tables towards the couch for in front of the TV. The oven chimed to let him know it was ready and he turned to start dinner, pausing in confusion when his front door was being kicked at.

“Who the fuck?”

There was a moment of panic wondering who would be there,  _ and _ kicking at his door? Especially on Christmas Eve when all his friends were either out of town or stranded with family things. The only person that came to him was Mike, but given the fact that Jack practically beat the holy hell out of him and almost risked getting himself arrested for it, he was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen. Mike wasn’t entirely good at listening though, especially if he’d been drinking.

He approaches the door cautiously and glances out of the peephole, a myriad of thoughts leaping around in his head from a hired hit man pointing a silencer at the other side because he’s seen way too many movies like that, to the thought that it really was Mike and not knowing how to take no for an answer.

When he stops being scared of a silencer, he looks properly and realizes it’s neither of those things, or anything else terrible.

“ _Jack_?” He mutters as he unbolts the lock and opens the door.

“Hey, Brock.” Jack replies, sounding completely casual and actually  _ happy _ even if his face is red from the cold and he looks a little worn down. He’s rolling his suitcase behind him, backpack attached to the neck. His other arm is cradling a flower to his chest in a nice vase with a red Christmas type of ribbon wrapped around it and there’s snow melting on his coat. Brock hadn’t even realized it started snowing, but it must have in the past hour.

“Aren’t you supposed to..I dunno, be in Europe?”

“Flight canceled.” Jack replies breezily and props his suitcase upright, pushing past Brock to carry the vase to the kitchen. “Apparently it just wasn’t safe to take off and they have to shut down the airport, that storm we were supposed to get near the end of Christmas day was coming in fast. Then I was thinking I can’t come back empty handed, so I got you something at the airport.” 

“A..plant?”

“It’s a phalaenopsis orchid.” Jack corrects as if Brock knows what that means, he sets it on the dining table.

“Wait, so..yer spending Christmas ‘ere now?”

“Yep.” Jack shrugs. “I’ll go after the holidays for a week or so. It’ll be less of a rush too, easier.” He pulls off his coat, pausing to all the frozen snack boxes stacked in a pile. “Or am I intruding? I could try to get a hotel room.”

“You ain’t gettin’ a hotel room, idiot. Yer gonna help me eat snack food for dinner and get drunk.”

Jack smirks and unwinds his scarf, hanging his things by the door and moving his suitcase into the hallway. Brock can’t help noticing how at ease he moves around the place, like he’s always lived here.

“Right. I see the oven’s warmed, pour us some drinks.” Brock lingers to watch Jack push his sweater sleeves up. He may have a weakness to his forearms, his arms in general, or his chest, face, body..okay he was weak for Jack in general. Fuck. 

He mulls over what they can drink and hears the Christmas music start up. It’s weird how he doesn’t get mad about it, it feels kind of..nice to be honest. He doesn’t think too deeply about it though, this was all a fluke and they were just two people stuck in one place.

Thing is, Jack doesn’t seem at all disappointed. It makes no sense when all he’d been doing is talking about how nice it would be to see family he wasn’t able to when he was out there, or too busy training and learning to go out there to visit. At the moment though, Jack’s nodding along to the music as he sets the charcuterie board like this was his plan all along. Brock decides to ask about it later as he puts the TV tray away and sets the table, glancing at the orchid while trying to figure out what  _ that _ meant. He knew enough about flowers to know those ones were expensive as fuck, and to get one at the airport on Christmas Eve? That only meant it was at least double the price, which was fucking highway robbery.

“Did you eat all the cake Mrs. Greenwood made?”

Brock turned his way, shoving a glass of boozy eggnog in his hand and juts his chin towards the shopping bags obscuring the picnic plates of wrapped desserts. “I woulda if you didn’t show up.”

Jack immediately goes over there to satisfy his sweet tooth, only Brock’s not prepared when he lets out a groan that  _ really _ edges close to pornographic. It doesn’t help with how Brock’s feeling right now, at all. He already has trouble not knowing how to put it into words and he doesn’t need Jack to be a distraction to his internal conflict. He’s kind of known there’s always been some kind of pull towards his best friend, but it’s been a thing that’s never discussed, even when Bucky or Nat bring it up. Jack’s always been Jack, if he had any kind of interest in him romantically, he would have told him by now, the guy knows how bad with feelings he is. The absent noise is just another nail in that coffin, he doesn’t need a reminder of the fact that he’s been harboring dumbass feelings for him for years now.

They get through two brandy loaded eggnogs before the wine comes out and dinner is ready to be served, a buffet of snacks laid out on the table that Jack finds too funny but can’t wait to dig into. Brock takes too long apparently because Jack’s staring at him for a moment after he sits down across from him.

“Hey,” He asks. “Are you all right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Brock mumbles out. “M’fine, jus confused. Ya couldn’t wait to go back home, ‘ave an actual rest than a hurried visit like when ya had to head back to France or whatever. Now ya look fuckin’ happy yer plans got changed.”

Brock doesn’t know what he expects. Certainly not for Jack to swallow his forkful of food and just almost  _ glare _ at him before he just smirks again, shaking his head. 

“Maybe I was happy to come back here.”

“ _What_?”

“Maybe..” Jack continues. “You should get your head out of your ass and realize I wanted to spend Christmas with _you_. I saw a lot of my family in one form or another, they’re fine with not seeing me until January. I missed spending Christmas with you, like how we used to before.”

Brock probably looks completely stupid with his fork held up in mid-air but he can’t fucking put it down because he’s too shocked. This is  _ not _ what he had thought Jack would say and the way he says it sounds like he means every word, yet instead of being happy Brock suddenly feels nervous.

“The universe decided I was being an idiot for leaving in the first place, I guess.” Jack shrugs.

Finally the fork gets set down but all Brock can do is stare blankly.

“And I lied a little, I actually got you something. I just wasn’t sure how to give it to you, I figured I’d have some time to think about it in Poland. Since that plan fell through, I guess it’s another sign I should just get it over with.”

“Jack, what the hell d’ya get me that’d get ya so worked up?”

Jack winces. “Well, I uh- “ Brock watched him rub at the back of his neck and then look at anything but at his face. “Just finish your food, I need you to have your full attention for this.”

Brock pops a sausage roll into his mouth, chews, and then swallows. He gingerly pushes the plate away from him, not that there’s much room to do that but it makes a clear enough statement either way. Jack finally has all his attention like he wanted.

“So, now that ya got it, what didja want?”

“Can you stand up?”

Not that he really gets what’s going on, since Jack doesn’t seem to get up to go get anything, he does anyway.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

“I swear to Christ if ya do anythin’ fuckin’ weird- “

“I won’t, promise.”

Brock closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know what to expect. He hears Jack step away and walk back towards the hall where his suitcase is and he rummages around before coming back towards him. The nervousness lingers even when Jack is standing really close to him, but the warmth of his body always brings a comfort to him. He’s much closer than before.

“Okay, don’t laugh if you think this is stupid.” Jack warns, and like this, he sounds much more anxious than earlier. He sighs, sounding a little defeated. “Open your eyes, and look up.”

Brock slowly does, his eyes first staring at Jack’s stoic expression and realizing he’s holding something and that’s when he follows the line of his arm and looks up to see it. 

A mistletoe hangs over their heads, not a plastic dollar store piece of shit, but a real bunch wrapped in red ribbon. Brock only knows because Clint always had some around whenever they did their yearly Christmas party and begged for kisses.

“ _What_?” He blurts out, a little confused but also hoping he doesn’t sound panicked, or hell, _freaked out_ \- even if he is..a little. 

“I don’t know what that  _ what _ means, was that a bad what?” Jack’s talking way too fast, he doesn’t generally talk like that which..even though he’s smiling, he looks really pale and Brock suddenly wonders if he’s going to pass out.

“It’s what as in what, I don’t know what- do you want us to, uh. _Jack_.”  _ Explain.  _ Is left in the air between them.

“Do  _ you _ want to?” Jack fires back like he’s got momentum he can’t displace. His voice is barely a whisper though and Brock can see the hand holding the mistletoe up is trembling slightly. “I mean I may have thought but I could have been assuming things. I asked Buck and he said..actually I don’t know all of what he said. This is the only thing that stuck.”

Brock doesn’t know how to take that.

What he knows for sure is that he wants what he thinks Jack’s implying right then and leans up to kiss him before Jack could back out on it. It only takes a second, but it feels like eternity for Jack to reciprocate, a hand in Brock’s hair and they share a kind of slow, sweet kiss that Brock’s never experienced before in his life..not that he minds it. He’s wondering for a moment if he’s gotten so drunk he’s actually dreaming all this while passed out on the couch, it would have made so much more sense than what’s going on right here because all of this, it was the makings of a romantic movie he’d make fun of but watch in secret.

But Jack’s kissing him like he  _ means _ it, his fingers are sliding through Brock’s hair gentle and comforting, the same way it would when they’d be in front of the TV when he just moved in and Brock would end up with his head on Jack’s thigh because he was tired of feeling like shit and just needed someone to take care of him.

“What was that?” Brock asks softly, almost afraid he’ll ruin it.

“Your Christmas present. I mean if you want it.” Jack offers, but now he doesn’t sound nervous anymore.

There was a hollowness Brock felt before, he’s now sure it was before Mike, before a lot of other boyfriends that weren’t worth much, a void that settled within him a long time ago; that hollowness seemed to have disappeared like all it took was for Jack to remove it. It’s stupid and ridiculous, the mere idea, especially for someone like him but it was exactly how he was feeling.

“Think I’ve been waitin’ a long time fer this one.”

Jack studies him, like he’s trying to read him, hands cupping his face before there’s a soft smile across his face. “Me too.” 

They stare at each other and then Jack’s kissing him again, and _again_ , and Brock stops wondering about all the details that led to him finally admitting his feelings and when it all started and if everyone knew except him because that’s generally what happened in his life, just to kiss back.

They’d both lost track of the time with almost an hour passed before deciding to take a break from all the kissing exploration they were doing and get the kitchen cleaned up.

“I guess I should get yer gift out since I got mine.” Brock pipes up and he shakes his head when Jack turns to look his way after collecting their plates, obviously ready to say he already got what he wanted.

He leaves Jack with the dishes as he heads for his bedroom to grab the gift, making a pit stop in the bathroom. By the time he’s back, the kitchen’s cleaned up and Jack’s got himself laid out on the couch with his feet up, fuzzy Christmas socks on that he decides not to comment on just yet. Brock easily drops himself down on Jack’s legs, holding out the present.

“Ain’t as amazin’ as mistletoe and that orchid but- “

“Shut up.” Jack mutters, taking it and tearing the wrapping paper off. 

He gapes at what’s inside, staring at it for a long moment before turning Brock’s way. “But this is yours.”

“I _know_.”

“You’ve had this for- “

“Jack, I’m fully fuckin’ aware of how long I’ve had it, which obviously means I know what the hell I’m doin’ when I gift it to ya. You’ve read the damn thing so many times I’ve lost count, I tried readin’ it  _ once _ all the way through and failed. I can survive without it, especially when I know the person that has it appreciates it more than I do.”

_ You though, you I appreciate more than anyone else in this whole wide world. _ Brock doesn’t say it out loud but he hopes Jack gets it. He watches as Jack thumbs through the pages as if it’s all brand new to him, and he looks so..emotional. It’s just a book, even if it’s a first edition, it still wasn’t worth much, he made sure to check when Mike pointed that out to him one day. He figured he kept it to see if it would go up in price, but now he realizes he kept it because he wanted Jack to have it when he came back from his apprenticeship. 

Jack eventually closes the book and motions for Brock to lie down on top of him, moving his arm out of the way and Brock does with a confused wariness. He doesn’t know what to expect, not when he’s never really been one to do stuff like this with a boyfriend, but then Jack’s always been an exception to a lot of things he finds weird in relationships.

Jack gestures him to come closer with a jerk of his head and Brock doesn’t think twice before moving in so that they’re pressed up against each other and Jack can move that arm and drape it across his back. . He can feel Jack’s heartbeat now, a soft regular sound that’s maybe slightly faster than it should be, but again the way Jack’s looking at him makes him forget about it. Mossy green eyes stare with a smirk and it’s like Jack’s got Brock exactly where he wants him, which, he probably does. Brock can’t help but smile back at him, genuinely feeling good about the whole outcome.

“There it is.” Jack whispers.

Brock blinks in confusion. “What?”

“If I had known telling you I have feelings for you was the only way to get you to smile like that, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

Brock stared at him for a long moment, he’s definitely been smiling before this..wasn’t he? 

“Not the way you just did now.” Jack offers up, like he’s reading his mind.

Maybe. Brock supposes he’s right, but then again, he had rights to not feeling so great and no one had permission to point it out. Not that anyone did, until now. 

“But then you’d have to have gone out and get me a real present.” Brock retorts, and Jack just laughs as his head inches closer to Brock’s.

“I guess I saved some money, huh?”

Brock rolls his eyes at him.. “I prefer this one anyway, even if it was a long ass wait.” He admits quietly. “It’s the best gift I ever gotten, Jack.”

“Good, I was thinking the same thing.” 

He’s so damn charming Brock  _ has _ to kiss him again before his heart bursts or something like that, he doesn’t need to check his own heartbeat to know running way too fast.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

It’s easy to agree to, Brock finds, especially when anything he does with Jack is nice. They easily find Home Alone and no matter where they are, there’s always time for a classic. Jack settles them in by pulling the reindeer throw over them that he’d brought out a month ago and Brock’s finally happy to put it to use, turning his head to stare at the television. He notices the snow outside the window coming down heavily and he snuggles in impossibly closer at the mere thought of how cold it probably was.

Jack’s out cold before the family’s all loaded on the plane, his arm secured tight around Brock’s waist while he himself has taken liberties to wiggle up a little higher so he can have his face in the crook of Jack’s neck.

They’re both so warm and tucked in tight, he doesn’t think he could move if he tried and he’s finally letting the eggnogs and wine settle him in a fuzzy state he’s been fighting so he knows what he’s saying or doing around Jack. He lifts a hand to run his fingers along Jack’s scar and Jack only hugs him closer.

He falls asleep to the feel of Jack’s steady, soft heartbeat and for the first time in years, Brock thinks that maybe he could get behind this whole Christmas spirit bullshit, if this is what it was all about. Even if he’s never going to tell Jack that fact.

Not that he won’t figure it out pretty quick anyway since it’s what he’s good at, always figuring him out. It’s what Brock loves best about him, that he knows him better than he knows himself and still wants to spend his time with him. He supposes he does have his own version of a romantic movie and while he’s not ready for it, he’s completely fine in accepting it with Jack.


End file.
